


Beautiful Chaos

by WeaverOfWords (Fantasy_elf)



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Joker (2019)
Genre: Anxiety, Arthur Fleck/Joker - Freeform, Dark Romance, Depression, F/M, Joker Movie (2019), Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Sensitive Topics, Romance, Society issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-01-04 00:54:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasy_elf/pseuds/WeaverOfWords
Summary: I was a nobody. Just a girl working in a dead-end job as a waitress, taking care of her disabled father, whilst trying to fit in with the rest of the world. My life was simple: Sleep, Eat, Work, Repeat. No one ever saw me, nobody ever noticed me. I'm invisible... Except to him.I don't even know who he is, not really. Deep down I feel a connection forming between us, complex and brilliant. He knows what it's like to be rejected and beaten down by society. With him, all the knots and tangles of my pathetic life are beginning to untangle. But there is more to him than what meets the eye. Attacks and riots are happening every day in the City of Gotham and I'm about to be sucked into the chaos.Warning: For mature audiences only. Mentions sensitive subjects (such as mental health issues), violence and possible adult scenes later on.A mixture of Joker 2019 movie with Heath Ledger's (Nolan) Joker. Be warned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or locations relating to the DC universe. 
> 
> This story will have a heavy connection between the Nolan movies (Heath Ledger Joker) and the new Joker (2019) Film. Although it will not be 100% precise or factually correct, I will try to keep the characters as original as possible. I intend to mix the two movies and events to make a solid background to this fiction. 
> 
> There will be some mention of violence, mentioning sensitive subjects (such as mental health) and 'possible sex scenes later on. It is intended for adults, so read at your own risk and safety. 
> 
> Please enjoy and leave me your feedback! I love reading your comments and thoughts.

**Part 1**

_Gotham City - 2019..._

...

“I specifically asked for no cheese on my burger, and yet you still put it on,” the guy sat at the table grumbled, clearly displeased.

I stood there, shuffling on my feet, awkward under his glare. I kept my gaze lowered, but every now and then it would fly up to the clock on the wall._ Five more minutes._ Only five more minutes and then I could finish my shift. Thank god.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” I leaned down for the plate in front of him, trying to control the shaking in my hands. “I’ll sort it out for you and get you a replacement.”

The bearded customer huffed, staring hard at the side of my face. “Are you joking? So now I’ll have to wait even longer? And you call this good service?”

I chewed on my lip, pushing my rounded spectacles higher up the length of my nose, hoping they would somehow hide my mortification. Various heads from other tables turned in our direction, curious for a drama. My nape and brow began to bead with sweat. The air seemed to lodge in my throat and choke me. My panic rising further.

I knew one thing right then; I should have stayed in bed. Today was not going well at all. First, the shower wouldn’t work this morning, and then I burnt my toast. Then my landlord harassed me in the hallway on my way to work, demanding the late rent we owed him. And now, I was here, at work being verbally whipped by some dude that I did not even know. Being a waitress really did suck sometimes. Add to that a cranky, abusive boss. _Heaven’s Retreat Diner_? More like ‘Hell On Earth’. My entire shift had been tedious and long. My feet and legs ached to the bone, almost unbearable. My anxiety was through the roof and I desperately wanted to go home.

I looked to the clock again, willing it to move faster.

“Hey, are you even listening to me? Who is your manager? I want to speak to him. Right now.”

My whole body clenched, trying to hide the tremors beginning to roll through my body. Words evaded me, I didn’t know what to say. As the man stood, leaning over the table to practically snarl in my face, I wished that a giant a hole would open up in the ground and suck me into it. I wasn’t a tall woman, so my smaller frame instinctively shrank away from the intimidating behaviour.

_Breathe, Jenny. Just breathe. Walk away from him._

I spun, almost tipping the entire contents of the plate all over the floor in my haste. I rushed into the back and then into the kitchen. I dropped the plate onto the side, taking a deep breath. For a second, I leaned against the counter, trying to gather my thoughts. Its surface was cool against my palms, soothing and solid.

“Hey, girlfriend. Is everything Ok? You look as pale as ghost,” someone spoke from nearby. A hand found my shoulder, rubbing in comfort.

I looked up, flashing a wry smile to my colleague, Kate. Her bright blue eyes shone with concern. The immaculate long blonde locks of her hair moved as she leaned closer, a question on her brow.

“Table 12.” It was all I could say.

Even from in here, I could still hear the customer yelling, so loudly that no doubt the whole of Gotham could hear him. I shook my head, perplexed and shaken. What the hell was wrong with people these days?

“Right.” The line of Kate’s full mouth hardened as she straightened, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll deal with him, leave it with me. I’ll give him some shit.” And like that, she stormed away and disappeared out of sight.

I watched her go with a slight hint of envy. Deep down, I wished that I had her gall and spunk. Nothing ever fazed her. She was always so mentally strong and capable. Unlike me, who was always so sensitive to the comments from others. Who was always afraid of doing the wrong thing.

And boy, was it tiring.

I headed for the staff room and opened my locker, reaching for my handbag. I pulled out a small plastic bottle of pills from within and opened it, popping a couple into my mouth. The dry, tiny capsules slid down my throat like sandpaper. I stayed there, staring into nothingness, waiting for the panic to pass.

_Ah, anxiety, my old friend, you truly do suck. _

Someone appeared in the doorway, striding in my direction.

“Kate told me about what happened. You Ok?”

I nodded, taking in his handsome face and lithe figure. Jasper, like Kate, was one of the few people I actually felt connected to. They were both my closest friends and I’d known them both since my first day at the diner, nearly four years ago.

Jasper was a kind soul, always offering to help when it was needed. His athletic shape and surfer-boy blonde hair made him very popular with female customers. He had the facial structure of a model, smooth and chiselled. Definitely attractive.

“It’s been one of those days,” I sigh, rubbing a hand across my face. “I’m gonna head home.” I needed to make a quick getaway before my boss, Stefano, saw me and tried to rope me into doing extra time. I pulled on my knee-length black coat and grabbed my bag.

“Well, all right,” Jasper said, hesitating as though he wanted to say more but decided not to. “I’ll let Stef know you’ve gone. Be careful on the way, you know how crazy things have been getting lately. You know, with the protests and stuff.”

I nod, heading for the door.

“It’s not safe to be alone at night any more,” he added as I pass him. “Maybe you should get a cab?” He chuckled adding, “Or maybe call Batman? But then again, that asshole seems to have disappeared out of the blue lately. He’s probably in the Bahamas somewhere, catching some rays with a nice mojito cocktail.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to find the energy to laugh but only managing a small smile.

For a brief second, I considered the idea of getting a taxi but decided against it. Despite the temptation, I couldn’t afford one, not with money being so short lately. It was a luxury I would have to forgo as every cent counted. Jasper was right, though. Things had become more dangerous and unpleasant amongst the City of Gotham. The streets were rife with criminal activity – a clear divide stretching between the rich and poorer dregs of society. Each week the power struggle increased, and what started off as peaceful protests had soon become full-blown attacks against the wealthy and corrupt officials. Violent shootings and the deaths of cops happened on a regular basis. Scary really. Most of these attacks were broadcasted on the news, showing images of the aggressors dressed in eerie clown masks.

“Well, make sure you avoid north of Regent Park,” Jasper shouted after me as I headed through the doorway and towards the side exit. “And keep your phone switched on, in case you need us. Text me when you get in, you know I’ll worry.”

“I will. I will.” I wave him off, eager to just get out and leave.

Without looking back, I stepped out of the building and into the crisp, cool night waiting for me outside. The clack of my shoes on the sidewalk echoed back to me, somewhat unsettling. I clutched the edges of my coat tighter to me, picking up my pace.

I couldn't wait to get home, but first I needed to pop by to the pharmacy.

* * *

The dark-skinned woman behind the counter glared at me, tapping her long fuschia-painted nails against the counter. She blew a bubble in her gum, popping it loudly. The huge loops of her earrings caught the fluorescent lighting. Behind me the large neon sign in the window flashed, almost burning my retinas.

“Look, I already told you, I can’t help you. There is a shortage going on and there is nothing we can do about it.”

I chewed on my lip, worried. “But what about my dad? He has a heart condition, he needs his medication.” I didn't give a damn about my own medication, but my dad needed his. His physical health and immune system seemed to be at an all-time low lately. Without his meds, there would be an increased chance of him having another attack. I didn't want to go through that again. I couldn't.

“Are you deaf?” The woman sneered, flashing her teeth. “Clearly you ain’t hearing me right.”

I stood there like a stone, my feet refusing to move. Tension filled the atmosphere, reminding of the small queue of customers waiting behind me.

“Come on, hurry up already.” I heard one of them grumble.

The woman leaned closer, determined. "Look, honey, I ain't no Mary Poppins. I can't just conjure them out of thin air. Now could you move along, I have a job to do.”

I slumped, defeated. Someone behind me chuckled and my cheeks flamed.

“My apologies,” I mumble, leaping towards the door. I feel eyes follow my every step and my ears behind to ring in distress.

Aiming for home, I walk down Portland Street before making a turn towards town. The cool air nips at my cheeks as rain begins to patter down from the black sky above. Foggy plumes fly from my mouth with each breath. The eerie quietness of the night is like a shroud around me. All the while, I contemplated how utterly crap my entire week was becoming. Nothing was ever simple or straightforward. If something could go wrong, it most probably would.

A sound blared into life in the distance, making me slow. A shrill cry of a siren. The police were on the move again. I took a left, keeping to areas that I knew to be safer and heavily lit. Another sound followed, loud and sharp like a… _gunshot._

My heart lurched, growing nervous with each hurried step that I took. My head whipped around, searching in every direction. Danger licked down my spine in warning. The instinctive urge to turn and go back the way I came hitting me like a rock.

Flashing colourful lights lit up the end of the road, casting strange shadows here and there. The cop cars tires screeched before whizzing off away from sight. From the darkness, a swarm of bodies charged forward, chasing after it. Some of them shouting and throwing unknown objects.

Glass smashed. Another gunshot followed.

_Oh god…_

The small crowd began to move in my general direction. Panicked, I darted down the nearest alleyway, hoping to dodge them. I stepped over a trash pile blocking the way, skirting around some boxes to try to see if there was way out from the other side. Which there was, luckily.

A throng of figures passed by the alley I was lurking in and I leapt back against the brick wall, praying to become invisible. Their pounding footsteps grew louder, before finally fading away into a deafening silence.

A minute passed, then two. The breath I held came out in a hard whoosh of relief. Removing my glasses, I pinched and rubbed at the bridge of my nose. Home beckoned to me like a beacon, calling my name. A long soak in the bath was sorely in order too, followed by an early night in bed. I pulled away from the wall, beginning to continue my traipse down the narrow passage.

A soft rustle sounded to my right. Something moved nearby in the shadows, catching my gaze. My skin prickled, uneasy. Eyes wide, I peered at the seemingly innocent pile of trash nearby, noticing it shifting.

A cat, perhaps?

I move closer a step. A long sheet of cardboard lifted and then settled again; a sure sign that something lay underneath it. I caught a flash of green and white in the dimness.

Sheer terror gripped me, yet treacherous curiosity had me leaning down, reaching for the cardboard. My shaking fingers lifted its light weight to reveal… a man.

What the...

No, not just a man. My stomach lurched as I stared down at the plastic clown mask staring back up at me, it’s fixed grin ghastly and chilling. It sat upon the strangers face, slightly askew. Now that I could see him properly, the male was lying prone against the pavement. His long, slender legs were covered by oddly-coloured purple trousers. A matching waistcoat covered his torso, with a patterned white shirt underneath. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing sinewy arms. The chest moved as the person breathed, shallow and haggard. Dark crimson stains one side of his suit, a small wound visible there.

Whoever he was, this guy needed emergency help, or he was going to die. Yet logic was screaming at me to walk away, to keep safe. After all, I was a woman, alone, at night.

I lowered, kneeling next to him, reaching into my pocket for my phone. My ice cold fingers pressed the screen, its brightness blaring into my face. I used my other hand to carefully remove the mask from the stranger’s face, only to then frown. He looked like some kind of freaky circus act. His entire face was painted an off-white, with smudged black sections around his eyes and a ridiculous red smile stretched across his mouth. Only, none of it was cute or funny to look at. Everything about it was wrong. The details of the make-up seemed rushed and chaotic, even patchy in places. The green I had noticed earlier was, in fact, his hair. It hung in a tangled mossy mess around his shoulders.

I tapped my phone again, my other hand reaching for his neck to feel for a pulse. The body beneath me moved. The device in my hand flew away, knocked from my grasp. A leather-gloved hand, cold and firm like iron, latched onto my wrist. I reared back with a gasp, struggling for release. I looked down and a pair of incredibly dark eyes captured me. Black, like onyx. Deep and yet empty, without a single glint of light reflecting within them.

“Wh-... Who are you?” I ask, panic clawing at my throat.

The stranger's grip tightens on me. He offers no reply. Instead, he simply lays there, looking at me with an unfocused intensity.

Does he have a concussion? The thought crossed my mind, but then another one surged. What if he was high on drugs? It was clear he’d been in a fight of some kind. And lost. He was most likely one of those clown rioters too.

“Let go… please,” I whisper, my voice failing me.

Unblinking, the strange tilts his head, assessing me carefully. The paint across his brow ripples as he lifts one, questioning. The corner of his mouth quirks into the faintest of grins.

“Look,” I say softly, as though trying to calm a nervous dog. “I don’t know who you are, but you are injured and need help.” I pause, casting a glance towards the end of the alley. Common sense raged at me to walk away and leave him to fend for himself. It would be so easy, right? “Is there someone I can call? Family? Or a friend, maybe? Do you have somewhere to go?”

For a long time, we simply stay like that, with him holding my arm and his gaze silently judging me. Testing me for something, yet I didn’t know what.

“You can’t stay here,” I reiterated, tugging lightly in a request for release.

No such luck, though. His other arm rose, reaching for me. A squeak erupts from my lips as I lean away, unsure of his intentions, but he grabs my shoulder firmly. The length of his torso begins the lift and then I begin to realise that he’s trying to sit up. Awkwardly, I pull on his waistcoat, trying to help, taken aback by how heavy he is, despite his thin appearance. I stiffen when his arms slide further around me, leaning against my side. I can hear his harsh, rasping breaths against the shell of my ear. Yet still, he says nothing.

_Why are you even trying to help him?_ _He’s a god damn thug. _A voice inside fumed. _You’re nuts, Jennifer. Completely bonkers. _

I rise, half-carrying him with me until we’re both standing. His weight presses against my side, causing me to teeter a little. _Jesus Christ, he’s so frickin’ tall!_ The top of my head doesn’t even reach the base of his chin. Though he appears thin and weak, there is an underlying strength to him. Stubbornness grips the line of his jaw as he staggers forward a step, taking me with him. I follow his lead, allowing him to use me as his crutch. The fabric of his colourful suit smells musty like smoke. Odd…

We make our way down the alley, turning left into the street. He hesitates at a corner, leaning against a phone booth to peer around at his surroundings, as though wary. Expecting danger.

I remain silent, fighting back my questions. All I needed to focus on was getting this over and done with and getting home. I heft him against me when he nearly collapses to his knees, encouraging him to keep going, even though I had no idea where he was trying to go.

We made it to the edge of the park, pausing for a moment. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him for directions, but freeze when a vehicle turns the corner, heading in our direction. The dark car rolled to a stop beside us, headlights blazing. The stranger moves closer, his hold on me tightening when I refuse to follow. Three men climb out from the car, all of them wearing black clothing and similar freakish clown masks of some kind.

_Shit… This isn’t good…_

I start to tremble, sheer fear wrapping around me like cellophane. Suffocating.

“Please, let me go.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. “I won’t tell anyone… I swear.”

_Great_, I thought. I’d just stupidly assisted in saving a criminal’s life, and now he and his cronies were probably going to drag me away, murder me and throw my corpse into a river somewhere.

The man against me shakes, a sound coming from him. A low chuckle. His dripping wet rat-tail hair blocks my view of his expression, preventing me from reading him. One of the thugs speaks. Another answers. Before I know it, the man at my side is pulled away from me and ushered into the back of the vehicle. I take a step back, grateful that they all seem oblivious to my existence amongst them.

But then, one of them turns, pausing, looking right at me. I can’t see him very well, but I notice the wide set of his shoulders. His hand reaches into his jacket pulling out a gun, aiming it right at me.

“Leave her.”

Through the chaotic, whirlwind of my emotions, I realise that the injured guy in the purple suit has spoken. His words clear and harsh, a rasping command. His smeared painted face peers back at me over a shoulder. His eyes black and fathomless, like dark ink.

The thug hesitates, but then retreats, following after the others into the car. The engine thrums into life. As it starts to draw away, I see a familiar ghastly face appear at the window, staring out at me. The stranger – whoever he is – flashes me a smile that steals the very warmth from my blood. He even has the nerve to wave at me in farewell.

What the hell.

My stomach tightens, anxious beyond words. My legs wobble in their effort to keep me upright. And like that, they speed away into the dead of night, leaving me standing there. Alone. Shaken.

The silence that follows is both frightening and a huge relief. I stand there for a while, brain muddled, unable to comprehend what has just happened.

_Yep, that’s it... I need a vacation..._

* * *

When I finally enter my apartment I am drenched to the bone and a complete nervous wreck. The walk home mostly consisted of me mentally berating and bullying myself for getting involved with the strange man in the alleyway. Looking back in hindsight, the situation could have ended badly. Very badly. Possibly with me lying in a gutter somewhere, dead. For all I knew, one of those guys could have been a murderer, maybe even been one of those cop killers mentioned in the news. I made the decision right then and there to never mention a single thing about it to my father. He would never let me live it down.

“Jenny-Girl, that you?” I hear his voice calling from the main room. The TV flashes, casting shadows against the pale blue walls.

I take a deep breath, straightening from my lean against the door. “Yeah, it's me.”

I slip out of my coat, noticing a dark, wet stain on one side as I hang it up. Blood? _Great._ I would need to clean that at some point. I traipsed further into the room, smiling at my dad reclining in his favourite worn armchair. The large bulk of his size filled it, the wooden length of his cane resting beside him.

“You’re late,” he said, not taking his gaze from the TV screen.

I dropped my bag to the floor with a thud, tired. “Yeah, it’s been a long day...I wasn’t able to get your medication. They’re apparently having problems with getting them in.”

“But they told me on the phone that they were ready for collection,” he grumbled, shaking his head in displeasure. “For fuck's sake, they’re so useless.”

I shrug, unsure of what to say. “I tried.”

“I have a good mind to send in a complaint. This isn’t the first time this has happened. It’s getting beyond a joke. It’s not like--” He kept on ranting, voicing anger. My head, fuzzy with exhaustion, drowned him out.

I wandered into the kitchen and began to make something to eat for us both. Although it was late in the evening, I knew he wouldn’t have made anything for himself. I went for an easy and quick option; a ham sandwich. I pulled out some meat slices from the fridge and then began to butter up the bread.

“Hey,” my dad called, breaking through the fog of my troubled thoughts. “Did you manage to get some root vegetables for tomorrow?”

I cursed under my breath, closing my eyes. “No, sorry, I forgot.”

I heard him sigh. "Well, make sure you get some in the morning and pick up some coffee up too.”

“Sure,” I replied absently, cutting through a length of cucumber.

My mind kept wandering back to the stranger I’d met earlier, wondering where he was right now. I considered the possibility that he had a family somewhere, worrying and looking for him. Perhaps he was someone’s brother or son? Not entirely the feral thug the media painted him out to be.

I plated up the sandwiches and returned to sit on the couch, offering one plate to my dad. He took it, staring at it for a moment, his disappointment obvious. I look away, hoping he won’t comment on it. I was far too tired to cook anything tonight.

“I was hoping we could have a takeaway. I fancy Chinese.”

I took a bite, shaking my head. “Maybe another night. Besides, money is short at the minute, we need to be careful.”

He begrudgingly began to dive into his own food, the silence thick and oppressive like a heavy blanket. I would have loved nothing more than to spoil him, but life had other ideas. In fact, I was so worn out I couldn't even taste my meal or enjoy it. I just wanted my bed.

"By the way, has your mother been in contact yet?” Dad asks, reaching for the remote. “Are they still coming to visit in a few weeks time?”

I pause, losing my appetite entirely. This wasn’t a topic I wanted to discuss right now. My mother had moved to Spain years ago when I'd first turned eighteen. Since then my life had taken a drastic turn. And whilst she kept in contact often via phone messages, we rarely saw one another any more. Unable to do little else, I had stayed behind to care for my father, while she had chosen to live the high life with her new boyfriend and his two young sons. I didn't want to admit it, but even now I could still feel the deep sting of her abandonment. The hurt from her lack of care to my feelings, as though I no longer existed to her any more. She didn’t even say goodbye to us before she left. Every year was the same, with promises to get together for birthdays and Christmas, but they never happened. She was always quick to cancel plans. And it hurt… a lot.

“No, I’ve not heard from her,” I mumbled, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be long before she rang to cancel again.

Silence settles between us as he flicks through the channels, stopping on a news broadcast.

“_This is the latest, I am Trisha Lockhart at Gotham News. Two men have been arrested for arson offences and for attacking a police officer on fifty-second street at approximately nine PM on Tuesday evening this week. Both males are in their mid-twenties and conducted the attacks wearing strange clown masks to hide their identities. Due to further investigations, their names have not been mentioned, but the Gotham City Police Department are urging any witnesses with information to come forward..._”

“Scumbags,” my dad piped up, his hatred clear upon his face. “People like that should be hung. We don’t need sickos like that in our society. Get rid of them.”

An image of a clown mask popped up on the screen and I cringe, reminded once again of the men I had met earlier on tonight. Though I knew they were not the same people, I knew without a doubt that they were somehow connected.

I shiver, turning away before standing. “I’m off to bed. I’ve locked the doors already. Can you manage the rest?” I asked the question delicately.

He nodded, barely sparing me a glance.

I leaned over, planting a soft kiss on my father’s head. “Nighty night, daddy bear.”

"Night, Jenny-girl. Sleep well.”

I spare one more glance at the TV before making my way towards my bedroom. Even as I washed, changed and crawled into bed, my mind kept going over the strange events of the day. A certain painted grinning face haunted me, forever imprinted in my mind. So much had happened today, and I wanted nothing more than to wake up tomorrow morning having forgotten everything about it. Trying to relax, I closed my eyes, forcing the images and memories away. My entire body ached, deep to the bone.

Everything was going to be fine, I kept repeating to myself. It was all down to being a bad day. Nothing more, nothing less. I would probably never meet the stranger or his creepy pals ever again. And with that thought, I drifted off into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_ A few weeks later... _

_ \- _

“Ugh, another day, another dawn, Jenny-Girl,” I mutter, catching a brief glance of myself in the small rounded mirror stuck on the inside of my locker.

My face is pale with dark circles about my eyes. A clear sign of my poor sleep routine. God, what I wouldn’t give to have a solid eight hours of sleep. Last night, like many others before it, had resulted in my dad calling out for me, needing water or help to the bathroom. And I was certainly feeling it today. I was beyond tired and the day hadn’t even begun yet.

I straighten at my apron and then smooth my hair back, tying it into a messy ponytail. I hang up my coat and then close my locker, placing the key into my pocket. My gaze flickers to the clock on the wall before I walk out into the main kitchen area. The chaotic noise of coffee machines and sizzling frying pans fill the air. Two familiar figures hover by the metal serving shelf that separates the kitchen from the main counter. I can see Stefano’s wide frame stood on the other side, serving a female customer. However, it wasn’t him that the other two watched.

Quietly, I walk up behind them, trying to catch sight of whatever had their attention. I frown, peering over their heads, seeing nothing at first, just the usual. People sat around tables, eating food.

“I’ve not seen him in here before. He seems a bit… ya know,” Kate whispers, her perfectly manicured hand lifting to make a twirling gesture near her head.

“What did he say to you?” Jasper asks lowly back to her.

Kate shakes her head. “That’s just it, he didn’t say anything, not a single thing. I’m telling you he’s a bit of a weird one, for sure.”

“Who’s weird?” I add, leaning closer to them. Curious.

Both of them jump, their heads spinning towards me.

“Jesus, Jen. You scared the shit outta me.” Kate says, holding a hand to her chest before pointing to a lone figure at the far end corner of the diner. “_Him_. The dude by the window at table fifteen.”

I peer closer at the person, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. The guy is slender, almost thin I would say. He sits alone at his table, his back slightly hunched in position as though trying to avoid any form of human interaction. Perhaps he was shy? The dark jeans and jacket he wears seem far too large for his slim frame. Messy dark locks fall about his features, obscuring them from my view. He doesn’t seem much older than his late twenties, but it was hard to tell at this distance.

“I don’t get it,” I whisper, breaking the moment. “Why are you guys worried about him? He seems like a regular old Joe to me.”

Kate snorts a dry laugh. “He’s been sat at that table for the last three hours since we opened. He won’t order anything and when I tried to speak to him earlier I honest to god thought he was going to slice me in half with the glare he gave me. Like, what the hell is his problem?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for someone?” I offer, eyeing the stranger again.

“Yeah, well, Stefano isn’t pleased.” Kate inclines her head towards the large figure by the cash register. “You know how he gets when people don’t order stuff. _‘I have a business to run, not a charity. If he’s not spending money get him out of here. Blah blah blah’_” She replies, imitating Stefano’s deep, Italian accent.

From my position, I can see my boss’ stance by the counter as he wipes at a glass with a chequered towel, noticing the hard glare he keeps on the man at the table. Clearly annoyed.

“Kate, go and ask him again if he wants anything,” Jasper urged.

“Fuck, no. I’m not speaking to him again. He gives me the willies.” There’s a slight pause before she looks to me. “Jenny, you go.”

I freeze at that, uncertain. I half consider telling her to take a hike, but then pause, feeling ridiculous. None of us knew who this man was. It felt wrong to judge him when we knew so little about him. To me, he was nothing more than another customer.

“All right, I will.” I square my shoulders, reaching for the small notepad and pen in the pocket of my apron.

I catch their surprised expressions as I walk past them and head out into the main public dining area.

“Hey, you. New girl. Table five needs cleaning,” Stefano shouts from behind me. “And don't forget to sort out the delivery in the back. I don't pay you to stand around doing nothing.”

I roll my eyes, keeping my back to him. I've been working for him a good few years now and he still considers me the newbie. What a prick. Without pause, I go straight for the man’s table.

_He’s just a man, Jen. Not the devil. You can do this. _

I clear my throat. “Hello and welcome to Heavens Retreat Diner. Can I get anything for you? We have a specials board by the entrance if you’d like to--”

My words trail off, losing their strength as the man lifts his head to look at me. Any confidence I have flees me in an instant as my eyes widen on him. The wild mane of his hair parts to reveal his face. Thick, knobbly scars line one side of his lips. Another slides up from his mouth to his nose; a possible cleft deformity of some kind. However, it isn’t the scars that take me aback. It’s his eyes. They are dark, almost pitch black in shade without a single ounce of light or colour within them. They are hard and certain, yet bleakly emotionless. _Empty_. Though he carries himself in a quiet, introverted way, there is no shyness lurking in their depths. His stare flickers around the room for a second, missing nothing. Incredibly aware. When his focus returns to me his silence is like a physical barrier between us.

I can’t help myself. My eyes take in every detail and flaw. There is nothing particularly special or _different _about him. And yet at the same time, there is.

He leans forward and I realised then that he has spoken to me.

I jerk, snapping back to reality. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“It’s rude to stare, ya know.”

I blink, surprised by his voice. It holds a soft rasping quality to it, clearly a regular smoker. One of his brows slowly lifts, questioning.

My cheeks heat. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. I was just er… anyway, is there anything you’d like to order?” I say, lowering my head down towards the notepad in my hands, gripping it tightly.

_Well done, Jen. You’ve made yourself look like an idiot. _

“No.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure?” I could feel Stefano’s eyes burning into the back of my skull from behind the counter. I shuffle my feet, anxiety beginning to bloom slowly in my chest. “We have key lime pie, freshly made this morning. I believe it’s one of our top favourites.”

He says nothing.

I give a light sigh, unsure of how to deal with the situation. Personally, I didn’t see an issue with him just sitting here and not ordering anything. But it was Stefano’s diner and whatever he commanded was law here. There was still plenty of tables available and I didn’t fancy having to tell the poor guy that he had to leave.

I step a little closer to him, lowering my voice to a gentle whisper. “Look, I don't mean to be unkind, but we have a policy here and--”

“Do you always follow the rules, princess?”

I still, licking at my lips nervously. His question surprises me, but not as much as his soft endearment does. _Princess?_

“It's my job to follow the rules,” I answer, fiddling with the end of my pen.

The corner of his mouth lifts a little, as though fighting back mirth. The darkness of his eyes dances, as if daring me to speak my mind further. There was something odd about him. Something that made me very self-aware and conscious of myself. It was almost as if he already knew what I was going to say.

“Paying customers are a priority,” I explain, offering a small apologetic smile. “Just so that you know.”

He doesn’t move or even offer an apology of sorts. His focus slides past me towards Stefano’s direction and his faint smirk grows just a tiny bit more. He knows of what kind of effect he is causing in being here, I can see it clear as day on his face. A subtle yet sly intelligence that made me feel wholly inadequate and small.

Who even was he? I’d never seen him before around the area. If I had, I knew I would have never forgotten someone like him.

“I'll give you a minute to look at the menu,” I offer, spinning away. I walk only a short distance and I swear I can hear his low chuckle following after me.

I venture back into the kitchen, keeping out of sight. As I enter the doorway, both Jasper and Kate turn to me with knowing looks.

“See, I told you! He's weird as hell, right?” Kate shakes her head, just as perplexed as I am.

I stand there for a minute, confused and intrigued all at once. I pondered over our short interaction, trying to fathom it out. He was such an enigma.

“I honestly don't know what to do about this,” I murmur with a shrug.

“Stefano is going to lose his shit eventually,” Jasper says. He wipes at a plate, carefully peering between the shelving out towards the lanky figure still sat in the corner. “Although, I gotta admit, that would be an amusing sight to see. Besides, he cancelled my holiday week a few months back. I call this payback. Karmas a bitch.”

As if on cue, Stefano's dark head whips towards our direction and we all dive away, attempting to appear as though we’re all very busy doing something. His glare is like a blade. Reaching for my notepad, I make my way out towards the front to serve customers. At one point, I wander past Stefano, hearing him grumbling under his breath. My lips twitch and a chuckle bubbles up through my throat.

_Well… This was certainly making my shift at work a lot more interesting._

* * *

The next hour or so goes by in a blur. I weave between groups of people, taking orders and clearing tables. My feet are aching terribly and the nape of my neck is damp with sweat. My cheeks are hot and in no doubt flushed. In and out, figures fill the empty spaces, increasing the workload as the evening creeps in.

My attention keeps sliding towards the figure by the window. Our strange newcomer hasn't budged an inch since entering the diner. He simply sits there, observing the mass of people around him with quiet disinterest. Every now and then I would turn to find him looking right at me. Those dark eyes of his are so fathomless, a stark contrast against the white lines of his scars and pale face. Some of the others nearby take notice of him too, though not with the same open curiosity that I do. Instead, they seem wary of him, as if sensing something alien about him. An outsider amongst their flock.

I try to keep my head down and get on with my work, yet I can’t help but remain hyper-aware of him nearby.

“That's it, I've had enough of this clown.” Stefano strides forward, slamming his towel down upon the counter with vehemence. He squares his broad shoulders, heading straight for the guy in the corner.

Without thinking, I rush forward and plant myself in front of the hatch, blocking his way.

“Oh hey, Stefano. What's up? What’s going on?” I ask innocuously, keeping my tone sweet.

My boss lifts a brow at me, glaring hard. “He’s taking the piss, that’s what’s up.”

“Who are you talking about?” I ask, pretending to have no idea before giving a feigned gasp of realisation. “Oh, you mean _that guy_.”

“Get out the way. That asshole is--”

“It's my fault...” It sprouts from my mouth before I can stop it.

“What do you mean?”

I shuffle, trying to think fast. I need an excuse. Something. Anything!

“Yeah, you see, he ordered a coffee a while ago and I just...” I shrug as if it’s no big deal. “I kinda forgot about it. My bad.”

“He did?” Stefano glances over my head towards the stranger, before returning to me with a glower. “Well then, what the hell are you playing at? You're supposed to be keeping track of the orders.”

I hold up my hands in apology. “I know, I'm sorry. My head has just been everywhere this morning. It's been pretty busy--”

Stefano presses closer, crowding into my space, lowering his voice just enough so that only I can hear him. “I don't want your fucking excuses. I pay you for a reason, so get on with it. Any more of this shit and you can consider looking for another job elsewhere. I don't have time for time wasters.”

I rear back, stunned by the venom in his tone. Wow, was he really threatening to fire me? I knew he was a dick, but not this much of one. I grip my apron tight between my fingers.

“I'll sort it out,” I mutter, sliding cautiously past him towards the coffee machine.

All the while, I can hear him chuntering to himself, cursing at me in Italian, I haven’t got a clue what he’s saying and I don’t particularly care either. My anxiety kicks up a notch and my hands begin to shake as I reach for a small white mug from the rack. Once filled, I then proceed towards the corner table, placing the steaming beverage and a neatly wrapped large cookie on the table.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Sir,” I say, somewhat breathless.

The stranger lifts his head to me, a frown creeping across his dark brows. I feel like a complete moron just standing there, offering him something that he didn't even want. But what else was I suppose to do? Stefano was watching me, even now.

I clear my throat and then lick at my bottom lip, nervous. I don’t know what to say to him. My legs are trembling slightly and my stress levels are soaring as high as frickin’ kite.

My ears start to ring.

_Great. Now I need my meds..._

“It's on the house,” I mumble, swerving away in an attempt to escape towards the locker room.

Something jars me back and I whip around to find a cool long-fingered hand encircling my wrist. My worry deepens as I try to pull away from the strangers hold.

Wait. Why was he touching me?

Dark eyes gleam. His shaggy hair moves as he tilts his head at me in a curious gesture. He says something to me, but my mind is slowly getting swamped by fog and the clattering of cutlery nearby. A shiver shudders down my entire length.

I feel his grip tighten on my arm, a firm pressure there. His thumb drifts against the racing pulse in my wrist. All at once, I’m ripped out of the mist of my panic and I take a deep breath, blinking down at him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Of all the things he could have asked me, that was one question I had not expected. I take a moment, choosing my answer carefully.

“Yes,” I reply, finally. Honestly.

He makes me nervous, I realise. There is a certain wild quality to him. A feral edge that makes me cautious around him. At the same time, I feel undeniably drawn to him, as one might be drawn to a masterpiece painting.

I wait, expecting him to be offended by my response. But he doesn’t even blink at my admission. Instead, his mouth curves up again, lifting on one side in amusement.

“But...”I quickly add, not wishing to be rude. “I don’t really know you, so it’s wrong of me to judge by appearances, right? You seem... like a nice guy.”

His eyes bulge almost comically at that and his teeth flash in a strange grin. “_Nice_?” He chuckles and the noise slightly jagged and high in pitch. “Oh, princess. You’re just _so_ adorable.”

“My name isn’t princess,” I retort, tugging on my arm for release.

He sobers. All emotion flees from his face as he leans across the table towards me. His voice is a whisper, as though he’s sharing a great and terrible secret. “Didn’t anyone tell you that appearances can be deceiving? For all you know, I could be a mass murderer planning to make you my next victim.”

The blood in my vein turns cold. My limbs tense and I’m ready to yank away from him. But then annoyance surges, lending me courage. Was he trying to make me uneasy on purpose? Because it was definitely working… Well, two could play at that game.

“That’s very true,” I drawl back, feigning nonchalance. I tap at his knuckles lightly with my pencil and he removes his hold, trailing his fingertips for a heartbeat before completely pulling away. “But it goes both ways, don’t you think? For all you know, I could be planning to murder you too.”

He appears surprised at my comment for a second. And then he begins to laugh, shifting in his seat like an excited boy at Christmas.

“Oh, you’re good. You’re _so, so_ good,” he praises me, nodding towards my notepad. “But erm… unless you’re planning to kill me with that blunt little pencil of yours, I highly doubt it.”

I shrug and then wink at him. “Don’t worry, I have a sharpener in my locker.”

What the hell was I doing? I didn’t even know any more. The whole situation had gone from creepy to dark-creepy pretty fast. This dude, whoever he was, was one of the most strangest guys I’d ever met in my entire life.

His grin spreads and holds there. My own lips twitch up, unable to fight back a small playful smile.

“_Finally._ Someone with a sense of humour.” He makes a clicking noise with his tongue, casting his eyes over me briefly from head to toe. “I like it.”

Who are you? I want to ask him. Some part of me is desperate to know.

I open my mouth, about to speak, but I notice one of the customers by the entrance trying to wave me over to them. I hesitate, somewhat reluctant to go.

“I…”

“Duty calls, _Princess,_” he whispers, teasing.

“My name is Jenny.”

“I know.”

I frown at that, my stomach tightening. A chill rolls down my back. “You do?”

A long finger lifts, pointing towards something on my yellow uniform top. My name badge. Inwardly, I cringe, feeling like a moron. Of course, it’s right there. I give him another sheepish smile as heat floods up into my face. I wait for him to give me his name in return. However, all he does is flash me a wink and then leans back against the seat to stare out of the window again.

_Ok then, maybe not. _

I take the hint and slowly turn and walk away from him.


End file.
